Oops was that 4 months between chapters...

"I'm concerned Amelia."

Constance was standing with her arms tightly crossed staring out the window at Mildred. The girl was sitting in the courtyard looking blankley through Walkers Gate; a spot she now frequented almost everyday since her return.

"Concerned about Mildred? Oh but she's doing so much better, especially her wrists. I think letting her stay in her old room is doing wonders! Those bats seem to actually remember her…"

Constance sighed watching Amelia babble as she fussed over wilting flowers. Perhaps was Amelia right and she was overthinking Mildred's recovery. The girl had been through a traumatic experience, it made sense she was slow to come around.

"It's not so much her physical recovery, though that concerns me as well. Haven't you noticed how low her magic levels are?"

Amelia looked up in surprise, chopping the head of a daisy off with her shears. "Her magic stores?" Amelia pondered the question for a moment. "I assumed she was just tired and still recovering. Do you think it's low?"

Constance shrugged delicately, drumming her fingers on her arms. "You're probably right, but-"

"You still want to check." Amelia broke in with a small smile. She knew Constance was a black and white person, and she wouldn't stop until she knew with certainty that Mildred was ok.

"Just be careful Constance. Mildred is hurting not just physically at the moment."

"I know."

It had been a week since Mildred had left Weirdsister. Physically, she had recovered. The place on her wrists where the bracelets had rested was pink raw skin. Where she had broken her arm during a lesson with Broomhead, Ms. Cackle had reset and healed it properly.

What was concerning was her mind. Every shadow in every corner resembled Broomhead's lurking shadow. She had to sleep with the lamp next to her bed on, and even got another one from the storage closet to brighten up the room further.

Mildred put her head in her hands. Everything about her life was upside down and crashing at the same time. She felt like her future had narrowed and had a definitive end point when she met Broomhead again. She desperately wanted to fight back, but she knew it wouldn't end well for herself.

A soft cough interrupted Mildred's brooding.

"Mildred. How are you?"

Ms. Hardbroom had transferred outside to the courtyard with Mildred. She watched as her former teacher brushed non-existent dirt off of a stone bench before sitting down with a gracefulness Mildred could only dream about.

"I'm getting better. I feel fine." Mildred flashed a strained smile. It was different when HB asked after her wellbeing. Something about the way she asked made Mildred feel so vulnerable in ways that didn't happen when Ms. Cackle or Ms. Bat fussed over her. Somehow, Ms. Hardbroom just seemed to get exactly how Mildred was feeling.

"Have you tried any magic? Even something simple, like with your drawings." Mildred shook her head puzzled at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

"I haven't really needed to. I don't really draw much anymore."

Constance stared at Mildred, watching her look pointedly at her feet, clearly upset. Amelia or Ms. Bat would know what to say. Even Imogen (though she was loathe to admit it) would have had a kind word for Mildred.

"When you did draw, what did you erm… draw." Constance inwardly grimaced. It was widely known that Constance Hardbroom, just like her magic, had a way with words. If anyone heard the awkward stumbling going on now, they might form new opinions.

"Well I used to draw whatever came to mind. There were times when I just had to draw, it was like an itch." Mildred sighed. "But Broomhead made me draw things like potion ingredients, or random things like shapes, or furniture. It was more an exercise in doing what she wanted then getting to draw." Constance watched Mildred dig her bitten nails into the bench. She uncrossed her arms and shifted stiffly to the edge of the bench, still leaving almost a meter of space between her and Mildred.

"Your drawing power is fascinating. How long were you able to keep a drawing outside the paper?" Constance said, feeling an awkward silence beginning to settle.

"It depends… oh here I can show you." Mildred fished in her jumper pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "This is a drawing that wasn't good enough for Broomhead." Mildred sucked air in sharply. She had been so determined not to cry. "I never got to the shading, but as long as I can see it in my mind, it should turn out ok."

As a look of concentration crossed Mildred's face, Constance watched in awe as the little sphere drawn on paper appeared neatly in Mildred's palm.

"Mildred are you ok?" Constance quickly reached out and steadied the girl who had gone white.

"I'm fine, it's usually not this hard, I think I'm just tired."

Constance raised an eyebrow and pinched her lips, but let the girl continue talking.

"Now I can do whatever I want with it. If I had actually shaded it in and added more details, it would look much better." She handed the ball to Constance, who took it and saw immediately what Mildred was talking about. The ball had almost no weight and had a waxen appearance.

"I must say Mildred this is extremely impressive. But how long does it last?" She handed the ball back to Mildred who had a very familiar look of confusion.

"Last? They don't go back unless I try to pull them back. But I'm tired now so I think we're stuck with the weird ball." She gave a half-hearted smile that faltered when she saw Constance's look of concern.

"Mildred, not many witches know this, but seeing as we're in a rather unusual situation, I don't mind you knowing. I see and feel magic differently than most witches, which, yes, is how I could always tell when you were out of bed or up to mischief." She shot the girl a stern look. "Right now, I can see a magical tie between you and this sphere." Constance handed the ball back. "That means that everytime you leave a drawing out in the world, it feeds on your magic to stay that way."

Mildred gapped at HB as she continued. "So if someone has one of your drawings they essentially have a piece, albeit a small one, of your magic." She paused, a sudden realisation dawning on her. "Mildred what happened to all your drawings that you didn't return to paper?"

Mildred's eyes widened as she caught on.

"They're at Weirdsister with.. Broomhead." Mildred watched as her former teacher's jaw clench. "But… she can't do anything? Even the potions I drew weren't dangerous, and the drawn potions always ended up being weaker than the real thing."

Constance shook her head at Mildred and tried not to get frustrated at the gaps in her knowledge.

"Mildred, as I'm sure you remember from your time here at Cackles..." She inwardly rolled her eyes at the guilty expression that flashed across Mildred's face. "Every witch has a discipline that their magic is suited for. Most of the time, it is something that is common like charms, chanting, hexes and so on. More uncommonly, some have magic which doesn't present typically, like yours with your drawing, or mine with my ability to sense magic. I've always suspected that Mistress Broomhead was one such witch."

She smoothed invisible wrinkles out of her long black dress to avoid the intense quizzical eye contact with Mildred.

"While I was at Weirdsister, Mistress Broomhead had two pupils with uncommon abilities. One who could timewalk a few minutes backwards, and one who could sense magic. By the time I left, Mistress Broomhead had mastered both abilities."

Understanding flooded into Mildred's face.

"Was she… absorbing their magic? Is that what her ability is?"

"Something of that nature. It goes against the basic laws of magic, but somehow, yes, she gains others special abilities."

Mildred wrinkled her nose, and for a brief moment Constance thought she recognised the girl who crashed on top of the bins on her first day of school.

"I never saw her draw anything though. I was with her for three years and I never saw her lift a pencil, let alone draw something and make it come to life."

Constance sighed. "Like I said, it's a theory. Compelling, but unproven."

They sat quietly for a few moments, both deep in thought.

"What still concerns me Mildred, bringing us back around to the original point, is that she has pieces of your magic with her at Weirdsister. There are a myriad of possibilities of what she can do with them, none of which are good. The one limitation that does comfort me is that if she tries to reduce your drawings to their raw form, most likely they will return to the source."

She handed Mildred back the waxen ball.

"Can you return it to the paper now?

Constance watched in quiet amazement as Mildred merely looked at the ball, causing it to slowly dissolve back into the page.

"It's easier when the drawings don't have a clear purpose." She blinked. "You know I do feel a little bit better now that the ball is back on the paper. I never really noticed that before."

Mildred instantly deflated.

"Ms. Hardbroom I know I said I want to help fight her, and I still do but without my magic… I don't know if I can."

To Mildred's embarrassment she felt her eyes burn with hot tears and she quickly looked away from HB, who looked impassive as ever.

Mildred opened her mouth to apologise, and was met with a stiffly outstretched hand holding a back handkerchief.

"There is no need to face her Mildred. There are witches who should have put a stop to her long before you ever set foot at Weirdsister."

The hard determination set in Mildred's teary eyes stopped Constance from trying to convince her to stay away from the conflict.

"I've been corresponding with Alicia for the past week you've been here. We both agree Broomhead is becoming quite unhinged, enough so that she might actually come to Cackle's in an attempt to get you back."

Behind the steely look on Mildred's face, Constance thought she glimpsed a flash of fear that was quickly squashed.

"Once she leaves, I'll have Alicia find the drawings, and reduce them to the raw magic form so you can be prepared when Broomhead arrives."

Constance injected confidence into her speech, hoping Mildred wouldn't see past the facade.

"She might not even get as far as Cackles, the council is prepared to step in and arrest her as soon as she leaves Weirdsister property."

Mildred slowly nodded, digesting the information. It seemed like a good plan. It was better thought out than many of her plans while she was at Cackles, and somehow, they always worked.

"I heard that Ms. Cackle is taking a trip down to the tea shop you and your friends used to frequent. As it is not exactly my idea of fun, I'm sure Ms. Crackle would welcome the company."

Mildred smiled at the way HB ground out the word 'fun.'

"I love Cosie's, and It would be nice to go there without getting in trouble."

She flashed HB a guilty look, feeling suddenly like herself for the first time in a while.

Before ducking into the Castle gate, she turned to face the once imposing black clad figure. "Thank you Ms. Hardbroom. I don't think I could face her alone. I feel so much stronger knowing I have so many people willing to fight with me."

Ms. Hardbroom just gave her a strained tight lipped smile before transferring away.

Back in her room, Constance massaged her pounding temples. Mildred was still determined to help fight Broomhead, yet Constance couldn't bring herself to feel confident in the plan. Mistress Broomhead was such a spector in her life that it seemed improbable for her to ever truly be gone.

She opened the letter from Alicia that was sitting on her desk, disappointed to see it was barely half a page long.

Broomhead has left. Rooms are untouched, but no one has seen her since yesterday night and there is no sign of her broomstick. Council witches and wizards didn't see her leave the castle, so we missed our opportunity there. They are on their way to Cackles as am I. Ethel has moved to remove her as a Professor at Weirdsister, so that aspect of the plan is a success. Several witches have also come forward in support of your claims and new accusations are also coming to light, so the case for her dismissal is strong. Hopefully we make it before she does.

Stay safe,

Alicia Thunderblast

Constance leaned back in her black velvet chair glancing out the window to see Mildred and Amelia walking down the path to Cosie's. She hoped they would have a good afternoon because the next few days were going to be chaos.

I can't promise that the next chapter will come out quickly, but we're at the homestretch here so thanks for all the reviews and support, they always mean a lot!